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anew v. vvxv % ' ri KRALD. Published every Tuesday Eve ning- SUBSCRIPTION RATES: One Year, - $1.50 Six Months, .... 75 Three “ - 50 All subscriptions must be paid in advance, end if not renewed prompt ly at the expiration will lie discontin ued. fjj, ADVERTISEMENTS ..g • transient character will be eliarg far tiuv first insertion, and 50c Aii subsequent insert'on. e®" t’onmiunii-ations intended for personal benefit, will be charged for at the regular advertised rates. .%}TSliort and newsy eominnnica uins from any' part of the county so icited. General Directory.^ cun. coykknvi ent- N. L. Hutchins. Judge Sup. Court. 1> T Cain. Clerk Sup. Court, J T Lainkin. Or inary. W. P. Cosby, Sherin. VV K. Brown, 'treasurer. D. W. Andrews, Tax Hceeiver. J R Verner, Tax Collectorr R. N. Muffett, Surveyor. J, H. VVilsou, Coroner. COUNTY COMMISSIONERS. J. D Spence, Chairman and Clerk, N. Reunett, J E Cloud, J. R Hopsins, An drew Garner. BOARD OF EDUCATION. T. E. Winn. School Commissioner. J. R. Spence, A. T- Patillo, A. J. Webb, J. R. Nowell, T. K. Winn. .IITSTICF.S. Lawrenceville, 407th dist—W. C Cole, J P., M. L, Adair, N.P, Ist Fri day. Berkshire, 405 dist—J, VV. Andrews, J-P., Charles McKinney, N. P. 3rd Saturday. Ben Smith’s, 316 dist—W. D. Simms J. P , J. O. Hawthorn, N. P,3rd Sat urday . Bay Creek, 1295 dist —W. J. Baggett J. P.. J. I’. McKlvaney, N. P. Ist Sat urday. Cates’, 408th dist—J. M, Arnold,.!, P., K, VV. Nash, N. I’, 2nd Saturday. Caine's 562nd dist- A. Adains, j. P C B Pool. N P., 3rd Saturday. Pulnth 1263 dist. —W. P, Brewer, J. P,, Marion Roberts, N P., Thursday be fore 4th Saturday. Harbin’s 478 dist—L. L. Knight J, P., J. W 7. Hamilton, If. P. humlay before Ist Saturday. Hog Mountain, 444 dist—A. L Sammons, J. P., VV. L. Landers, N. P. 4tli Saturday. Martin’s, 1541 dist Asa Wright, J. P., J. R. Nowell, N. P. 4tn Saturday. Norcrosi-, 4GG —W, R. Simpson, J. P„ A. A. Martin, N. P. Friday before 3rd Saturday. Rook Bridge. 571 dist—A. J. Lowery. J. P.. E. J. Mason, N. P. 3rd Saturday. Sewanee, 404th dist—T. N. Smith, J. P., A G. Harris, N. P. 3rd Saturda •’ ih , Buford, 55bti’i eh? T. C. Bur ton, J. P., J- M. Posey, N ; P- Fri day before 3rd Saturday. MUNICIPAL. John C. Smith, Mayor. COUNCIL. A L Moore, E P Herrin S A Townley W J Brown ARRIVAL AND DEPARTURE OF TRAIN Arrives trom Suwannee, 5.50 p. m leaves tor Suwannee, 7 a' ra. ARRIVAL AND DEPARTURE OF MAILS. Jefferson —Arrives 12 m, departs p.m., Monday and Thursday. Tkaoi.es Stork. Departs Gam ar - rives t, pm, Monday and Thursday. Loganvili.r. Arrives 10 a m, de parts 1 p m.—Daily. Yellow River. —Arrives 12 in., de parts 6 a m„Welnesday and Saturday w. h. harvky, p. a CHURCHES Baptist- -Rev J L R Barrett, pastor Services every Sunday. Methodist —Rev M P Turner Pastor Services on the Ist and 2nd Sundays. Sunday School. — A T Puttillo, Supt Kverry Sunday at 3 p m Presbyterian-- Rev J F McClelland, Pasior, Services on 2nd and 4th Sundays in each month, Sunday School. —T R Powell. Snpt. Every Sunday at 9.30 a nr fraternal. Lawrenckvili.k Masonic Lodge.— R p Ann, VV M., S A Hagood, S VV„ S J.VVinn J VV. Meets on Tuesday night on or beto: e lull moon in each month. Mr Vernon Chapter, No 39, R A M.~J D Spence, II P, A T Paltillo, See. Meets Finlay night belore the 3rd Sunday in each month. Gwinnett Superior Court. —N. L. Hutchins, Judge. Couvcues on the Ist Monday in March and September. Ttoui LAwr, ILL Having ncfiitly located in Gwin nett County tomiern his profession ft ftervieort tiHa I'hysiciftn to tlit; eitizeiiM Prompt attention to all calls will be SVyen. <-not resilience ft* - lh. e ,Vf *i Biiceof A ('union the Hurricane Should road. * March 24th 1884 tirno ‘ NO more eve glasses More Mitchell’s Eye Salve. A certain, Sato, effective remedy for SmWnHI&WEp producing I.ong Sightetlneaa, amt Re storing the sight of (lie old (.’iiirt- !<% r Drops, Granulation, Stye-s Vmors, Red Eyes, Mat ted Eye Lashes, and producing quick relief and per manenf cure } Also equally elticacioua when used «rotlier studios, such us Ulc«rs Fe 0,,,. Sol d Tumors, Halt Rheum, ’ \v ns, 1* es, or wli ei never inttuinu = ts, Mil‘ hell s Halve may he ■ , nutago. cul Druggists at 35 cents .T-' rTfciMßiij J ‘ T,tc “' u “Ti flminndt c j. grail TYLER M. PEEPLES, Propriet' r VOL XIV. I‘fiRKXIAL nouns. We nmy not force the law of late. Or hasten oneperenial hour That manifests or soon or late Thy ceaseless and omniscent power. ! |t Thou hast led us by a way We never sought, and which, when fonnd, Encircled ourmerediun duy With blackness as of parch'iWl qfind. We iook to Thee for wisdom still Through all the subtle waysoj limek We long to know Thy perfect will, And consecrate our wills to Thine* Thy duys of darkupss turn to light, And out of all the stormiest hours Of love and passion, in their flight, Thou weaves! fadeless wreaths of Uowers. Nay, from the grave of love there springs New music of a siren’s song, And unseen harps of countless strings Repeat the echoes quiet and long. Te«der and True. CHAPTER 1. THE DAWNING OF I.OVE. A tall fair man, in veveteen shotoiug jacket, coining slowly across the field. A handsome ar istocratic looking man, in spite of his careless dress. A girl, with sweet, grave eyes and bright brown hair, leaning ov er a low white gate. A sudden joy iu the man’s eyes when he sees her —a little slim, wh.te hand goes gladly out to meet him- -and for a moment silence. That is the picture I see fax down memory's track, as the mists that the years have gatbeied rol] away ; and again 1 greet, as plain ly as if it were but yesterday, those two, one of whom was my hearts darling, and the other my darlings lover. It was the old, every day and usual story, weary in the teliiiug aud weary in the acting. She was all the world to me aud I was noth ing to her. And yet I wro-'g her She diu love me in her gentle winsome ways, as a child loves one who has guarded and watched it with care. “You like me James —don’t ycu 1” bhe would somatimes ask, roguishly ; and I would laugh and call her a baby, even while ihe man’s heart within was long ing to tell her of the love that filled me and would linger till 6r'od should give me resi. I never did tell her, though sometimes the lempiation seemed greater than 1 could combat. I knew so well how it would have pained her gentle heart to know she had caused me sorrow, how unintentionly. Audi ioved her two well to shadow, even lightly, he days with grief. She was the light of the bous hold—this girl with her grave eyes an 1 merry ways—and ihe sunlight @f that dull gray life into which my footsteps had fallen ever since years before the trouble had come upon us which hud driv en our father to a suicide’s grave and left us beggars. I was the pastor of St. Stephens Cfiiureh a little minster tatious edi fice whose congregation was none of the most refined. Bitter in deed had I rebelled against the quiet eventfull life which I knew before me when 1 accepted th e rectorship of Kingston ; but grad ually I had hurried all my high hopes and aspirations ; and the years as tAey glided onward brought me peace. One day a message had come to my sister from a friend who was dying in London. She obey ed the summons ; and th:ee days later si e returned with a little soletnn-faced child, who crept like a tiny ghost into my arms, layiug her tired bead on my shoulder. “James,’’ said my sister, I want to have this lit fie birdiing stay with us. She is fatherless and motherless, and has no one in the wide world to protect her.’’ I looked down into big brown eyes that were watching me. “She is tho daughter of your friend ?” I interrogated.” “Yes : and before she died I promised— “ Enough !’’ I interrupted. We; have known wiiat it is to be friend less ourselves, Kate our knowledge is not limented how pitiless the can be to those in need. Certain ly we will keep tne child and I guard her at her dead mother would have done.” So tffe lit de ones fate was decid ed—Oar home was her home my sister stood in the place of the mother she had lost. Year by year the little one drew more dear to us. .411 the strong love of Kates nature was lavished on her save what she reserved for me and the latter was no beggars portion. But to Hath Farley grew to be dearer than a sister—though thank God she nevev knew my hearts secret—never knew me as other than Iter own fond indul gent foster brother. Ah ! how fooli h we are the best of un, sometimes ! How we create bright, imraaginary castles, and people them with those over whose jives we have have no c introl ! 4 change came -a change with which 1 have opened this nara tive. Brian Vaughan and I had been friends our youth. Iu my Eton ion days I hail always liked the inpulsive boy, whose nature was a atauge mixture of grand values and great fanjts—whose life bad been empty foi the love all child ren in the grave in the midst of ll.e granduer which surounded him. There Lad been a change in a good many things since our part ing, and he had changed with the rest. Then he was scarcely twen ty one, and had not learned much of the worlds wisdom. His stand ard of truth aud honor haa been very high, and Lusjuul lmd refer, enced everything grand or great with all a boys passionate puri ty- Of late certain whispers concern ng hiui had reached me—odd bits and ends of what society thought of him—for his talents and family were distinguished enough to make it worth the world’s while to afteud to him It. was rumored he had trifeld with the affections of numerous women that he hail w isted any amount of talent through sheer indolence ; that though had many friends warmly attached to him, he him self was incajile of any attach ment ; and this marked want of anything lovingable in his nature was mude all the more prominent by a singular charm of manner, which for the time being was cer tain to win anyone, But it was hard for me tobelieve that a few short years contact with the world had warped all the good in him I was certain that beneath the thin crust of cynicism, which the spurious dandies of to day con sider quite the thing lay. many no ble qualities—a little chocked in their growth, perchance, by the at mosphere he braathed—but stiff then -remnants of the loftly as piration which liac- won my heart at school. A distant relative of his mother had died leaving him a small annu ty, and a great barracks of a place called Raliegh Hall, remarkable jor nothing but its numberless moteateu rooms aid general dilap idation. He accepted the money as he afterwards informed me with alacrity ; but the Hall was in dan ger of never again seeing lnm . when, by Homo strange freak, lie oi e day left London, in the very hieglit of ihe season, an<f came therefor what he tenned quietness and peace. As our cottage was within easy walking distance of ihe Hall ii was not remarkable that we often mot ; and gradually the old friend ship w; s renewed ; for he was pleased to greet me with a genuine heartnesa that was not feigned, and I was glad to welcome him to my home. “Do you like him?” I asked Ruth, a week or two after he had arrived the was bending over a rosebud cliping the dead leaves with a pair of scissors, and she did raise her head as she answered nr.e : “Yes.’’ I never asked her again—l need no need to—for in the days that followed her eyes fold me all I wished to know. Looking at him that morning I acknowledged to myself that he was the pleasan'es cheerist com panion 1 had ever *teu with a man OUR OWN SECTION—WE LABOR FOR ITS ADVANCEMENT* LAWRENCEVILLE, GA. JANUARY 20 1885. tier so full of bonhomie that few eoukl resist its charm, and I did not blame her that when lie was near she seldom saw or noticed me. They were standing togetliei now Look she said lftera moments silence, sloping to show him an ex qnisite little view a purple moor a hill beyond, and the clouds all bathed in a sudden glory by the morning sun, ‘Do not scenes like these make you love God, as children love tnose who are kind to them !’’ But the lovely face near him at traded his attention far more than the landscape, though I kmwv he was charmed by tnequaint simple words, “How different yon are, Ruth from the women one generaly meets,” he said. He meant the very highest praise. She took his words as a kind of of rebuke, and her face sad eued. “Is it well to be unlike all the world?” she signed. “Yet what you say is true, no doubt. I sup posa lam different from all the people you know.’’ “You are indeedl” he replied, in a tone so grateful that it ought to have conveyed to her his mean ing. But grief and disappointment had fallen upon her. “Yes, of courst I” she returned, dejectedly Then after a little pause, she added: “How paltry our lives must appear in compari son to yours! and how glad you will be to go back again!” He laid his hand gently on the little fingers that rested on ihe gate and smiled. “By returning I would lose y/u, lie sail, “and there cannot be much gladness in the thought of that.” “Isn’t it strange,” she remarked, rather irrelevantly, “how people come and go in one’s life, l/ke the I waves of the restless sen? and how soon we can forget the friend of a year in a day?” j “Rut the wave /hat departs in the morning comes back at nig!:,’ he whispered:“and one may choose to forget, and not.be able lo accom ; plish the deßire—for to forget, o to remember lies not within one’s power.’ - “We seldom wish to forget a pleasant thing!” she said slowly, | revealing more in her simple speech /han she was aware of. A great tide of tenderness swept ! across his face as he laid his hand on her bright hair. “Ruth,” he s aid, his voice ling— | ering softly over ber name, “one cannot deny there is a God when one reflects that He creates such beings as yon,” She lifted her grave, brown eyes to his face. “Tell me—has youi visit here been a happy one?” There was a world of entreaty in her voice, and her lips quivered slightly. “I was never before. 1 may nev: er again be as happy ar 1 have been during the past few week i*i Kingston." Ttien there was a pause. To them both the hour was fraught with a tremulous joy—a vague, sweet longing that meant love as yet untold, That night she was strangely quiet: uud missing the merry laugh I became uneasy; and when; for a brief while, we were alon e togetli ei in the tiny, perfumed garden. I asked her if any thing had hap pened during the day to give her pain. For answer she smiled brightly in my face, and her little hands stole conlidiuf'ly inn. mine. And looking down at her, where she rested a/ my feet, I saw mat thougu she was but a child in years —a child in heart—the wo man’s soul that lay in her was waking. “Ruth,” 1 said stroking /he bow ed head very tenderly, “until he came yonr love was given to us undivided; now it is different; but dear child, keep one little portion of your heart reset ved for us and think of us sometimes.” “Ever! ever!” she answered, in « low, tremulous voice, with deep emotion, d will remember to love you both, always and ever!” “Child." I whispesed, drawing the winning face near my own, some echos of the paiu iuy heart felt lingering in my voice, “why did ray friend come here to dis - turb your calm serenity, and teach you things yon might otherwise never have known?” - “God sent him I supptrse,’’ she answered, a tender, loving smile p’aying round Iter ,; ps, “Love iH an atmosphere that pH higher souls breath in | a medium thro’ which all itiing can lily seemed clot licit in glories borrowed from h< aven.” “Perhaps so!” I sighed; “but to very few does it bring happiness ami many lives would he the bet ter without it.” “Treason!’’ she returned gayly ‘‘You dear old hermit, you must not think, liecanse you are proof I against and despise such follies, that all Hit* world is the same!” And I laughed—laughed pleasnt ly—with never a tremble in my voice. God knows, of all the uaar tyrs who have lived and died, few perished in the arena at Home. CHAPTEK 11. UNDER Till AUTUMN MOON. It was night—one of those soft, stilly nights when the earth laughs back to t.hb star studded sky and the very air seems tiled with frag ranee. The wind murmed music ally through the branches of the trees, rocking to sleep on its bos om the flowers, and whispering good night to the birds. In the distances lay the bay. calm and plaeid. Not a ripple. not a aigli, to disturb its serenity, or mar the perfect beauty of the sliver path way thrown so light,l» upon it by the moon, which fell so clear, so unbroken, that one could almost deem it possible to step upon it and walk onward tj the sky that melted inio it on the far horizon. •When I arose and saw the dawn.’ I signed for i hoe.” The sweet tones of the sweet Binder’s voice seemed not to dis turb the exquisete silence ol tht nigh/, but to harmonize and from part of its beauty, She was standiug on a lit/le rus tic bridge, and the moonlight glim inered over her kissing her lips, her che. channel her wavy hair. A fare, f«v'r woman was Ruth—a rare ; fair woman always— but that night t he gentle passion of her love made her seem almost divine, and Brian Vaughan might be pardon ed if in her presence he forgot all he should have remembered. “Ruth!” From where 1 stood, in the shad ows of the trees, I saw the tender joy with wh : ch she turned to gleet him. “It was your sweet voice tha/ guided me,” he said, “or / might not have known where ou were,” She lifted her head and smiled. As his gaze met hers, some of the truth and sweetness that belonged to her sprung from her to him,and the great pure, honest love that comes once to ivory man, came in to his eyes and lingered ther. ‘ Ruth, they want meat home!” he said, after a pause. “I will have to leave in a few days.” “To leave?” she repeated, in a voice from which all joy lmd Hown “1 am sorry;” She turned away and looked straight before her. There was no quiver in nor tone her lips did not tremble yet lie could see how paleshe had grown jenoath the moonlight. Then she said, in a tone so low he could barely hear her. “Why need yon go until after (Jhristmas?" “Rut h do you want me to stay?” lie aske 1, taking gentle possession of her hands. “Te’l me the truth!” “I do!” she answered, tremulous iy “Rut why? Is it because you love me, Rutii? ’ Silence. Then, bending his head, he read in her eyes what her lips were afraid to repeat; and with a glad, low cry, he caught her m his arms. “Ob, child—my little white child of grace—* have so hunger- ed to 1 iow if it were true! I love you with all my heart! Tell uia you love me (oo!” She lifted one baud and drew his fnee down to here. “I love you row ho wi'l / al ways—wbith all my heart and soul!’’ she whispered. A strange, indescribable took of pain crossed hit face, and I kt.ew he w»s regretting the vanished days of his youth, when his stand aid of truth bad been high, and his deeds tor evil few, and he had been more worthy of her. “Ruth," he stt' 1, pressing her close to his heart, '‘when 1 gaze into your isnocent eyes, and listen to your words, I feel like a lost soul, outeside of the gale of para dise, who has no right te hold communion with the aegels with in..” Hhe smiled contentedly from her shelter within his ariusr “There would bo no pnr«d : se if those we love could not enter!’’ she said. “Thorefore heaven to me would not he heaven if you were not there!” “You should not trust me!’’ he cried, remorsefully tegreding even while he gloried it the les son he had taught her. lam not worthy of it!” “Brian, love should never doubt Believe me, nay heart loveH yon therefore my soul knows tre fear," He did not answer for a while Then, very gentle, he released her and taking both her hands in his looked steadily into her upturned face. “1 am not a gosd man, darling,” he said. “People have called me bad, and reckless—not without just cause. But my surroundings have had a good neal to do with it, I (liiuk. When, as a child, I prayed with all a boy’s passion ate longing, for levt, it was deni ed tre, I had a mother who nev er kissed are caressed me as I suw other children’smother do. I nev er had any one to sympathize in my tastes, or teach me to pray to /he (iod who created me, And as I grew older, and learned that, though our nature adorned the hook a( St. James,’ and the queen figured on my mothers visiting lis', we were very far from being riel', anil that many were the slrug glue and trials which disturbed our family household, ot which our ari tocratic trends never faint L guessed I made up tny nond that the best things in life wealth and power, no matter what means were employed lo obtain them The prayers I listed in babyhood were for wep'th—that panacea for all evil—and now. even now, (the anguish deepened in his voice) 1 left London to avoids a certain la ds my mother wishes me to marry and whose weeldr I know would have lempeted me had 1 stayed 1 am going back deteruied to try hard and codquer myself and re turn to you. But love, can you trust me? ’ Ituth was for a time silent. She seemed to have some niftieu'ty iti flu dine ei their voice or words. At lust however she spoke vuy low ly arid slowly. “I love you,” she said, simply “aud with such love us mine comes trust! I tin sorry your life has been a broken one, and your days have been unhappy!” “Ituth! God bless you!” he ex claimed “1/ may so.ind like pro fanity for my lips to utter a bless ing But God will hear even a sinner’s prayer! If any one can make me a good man, you can- As long as life is in me, my pur est. feelidgs will arise from thoughts of you: and remember, if ever you hear of my doing any thing grand or good, the seeds of good were sown by you ” In the years that came to him afterwards, he often remembered her as he saw her thee, wilh her sweet, gentle face, so lovely in its holy love, and her rippling wavy hair, where tiny shafts of moon light lingered as if loving their resting place. She clasped her hands lightly together and laid them against his breast. “You will come back to me!’’ she said. “On I know your na ture so well! Ids a grand one,for all its wanderings from right. Pray, aud God will help you to be JOHN T. WILSON. Ja., Publisher. better! And remember! the high est saints in heaven will be those who have been the most, deeply scarred id life's battle.” Very gently he put his arms around her an l smiled sadly into her face. “Star of my life.” lie rniirmered ‘•ask God lo give me strength to grew worthy of yon!” Then he releasen her; and to. got her, very slowly, t hey went homeward beneath the light of the autumn moon, amt so disap peared from nry view TO Btl CONTINUED. Ur lelton on I’l olnbii ion Durirg the recent session of'the Legislature, and while the prohi bition cause was agitating that body I >r. Felton, of Bartow coun ty made use of the following lan ftUagc : There is but one remedy for the terrible evil, and that is wipe it out. (Applause). Hedge it, re strain it by taxation, license or as yon will, it is nullity. The peo pie of georia are willing to wiye ii out. He trusted the general assembly would give the privi edgo to every county in the state to wipe it out. Talk about the eonst.it,ntionility of prohibition ! The blest judges of the Federal court have ueci le l that it is con tit,u/ion—Chief Justice Taney— [Here Mr. Middlebrooku raised a point that he was discussing pro hibition and not the tux act. The speaker ruled that Mr. Felton was not out. of order.] Me. Felton—l am in order. This house cannot well asess the evils of the truffle. He favored the repeal of (ho revenue laws'and had voted three times to repeal them. There was his record on that question. He hoped to se* lue time when there would be no tax on grog shops, because there were no grog shops to tax. 7/e was wi'ling tax them sl.oooif it saved but household from ruin. He was asked by Mr. Bart'ett if it, was not bettor 'o iibohsb it in the country and let it be in the cities where it was under police regulations. He replied that the cities insueh an event would be liorne nest eggs for the spread of mental and moral rum. Mr. Brandt -Will high lax de crease drinking ' Dr. Felton- I will answer that briefly and to the satisfaction of my friend. The solicitor general of our circuit informed me that when lie entered upon the duties of his ollice, the counties of Whit field, Catoosa, A/urry aud Gor don in his eiruit, u'l licensed the sale of liquors. They gave him about the same amount in crimi nal practice in each- Subsequent ly tho coifntiob of Catoosa, Murry and Whitfield voted ent tlie traffic entirely or iu part. He gets more criminal practice in Gor don than in the other tluee coun ties combined. The general as sembly has the right to tax (hem. Tho fait that you hedge t* e traffic in is a confession that it is evil. Mr. Middlehrooks--Are not .awyers and doctors taxed 1 Mr. Felton—Yes; sir* and I am opposed to it. lain opposed to tax mg prodcutivo business. Law yers and doctors do not ruin fami lies, blast households and people hell with millions of souls, H« was asked if he wished to stop ihe traffic, why he didn’t make drunk eness a crime. Mr. Felion responded that he would //<uke it criminal to lead them astray. He wou d punish tlie accessories more than the criminal. The day was at hand when die liquor shops are doomed, The edict has gone forth from every woman’s heart in this land —the grog sh( p must die. Even the little children who could scarce lisp their fathers’ name were praying that the grog shop should die. God hasten the day. (Applause). Nothing can exceed ihe power siul effect of this speech. It was u strong and eloquent ellort. The amendment of the com mittee fixing the tax at JSSO was adopted by a vote of ‘.HI to 07. A Newburn, N. Y., man has two hundred different sorts of ap V lea grafted upon one tree. GWINNETT HEItaLT). - ——— OUR JOB DEE AH .5/ Tr IS COMPLKTi:. ALL ORDERS FOR NEATLY AND PROMPTLY EXECU TED, NO 43 Kulcred in th« Port Office at Law rence v ille, Oa., as second class mail matter. Home Kill** If any of my readers will obey the following home rules. 1 will guarantee that they will succeed in making “Home Sweet Home,” a sweet place indeed: 1. Never speak a kind word to any one about the house. 2. Never shut adoor behind you without slamming it. 3. Never clean your hoots be fore entering yonr domicile. 4. Never talk softly when an swering a person, because if you do the person may he apt to think that you have consuinption.oi that you ain’t boss of the place. !». Never be polite nor civil to solvents; be as austere as possible and thus make them respect you. by showing them that you are a superior b eing. «. Always reserve your best man ners for company, and your worst for your family. 7. When people are speaking never wait till they are done, hut always join in the middle of their speech. This wi'l make them con dense their talk, aud tus give you a chance to table nonsense. 5. When you are called upon to do a thing, never do il cheefully. but be as crabbed as possible tin/ll it is done. 9. Always sit down at /he table or iu the pallor with diriy hands and disheveled hair. This ia a sure sign of good breading, and it shows that yon are used to cornpa ny -10. Whenever a member of the family says a thing, always dispute it, for it shows superior knowledge and talent on your parte. Itai'Kwiiiing wlili a l*nin|> The following story tolls of a flannel weaver who was induced by a surly answer to reflect ami men t* make a good bargain with a pump. This man had saved a genuea for the purpose of having a whole weeks dissipation. He began on Monday, spent three shillings per day for seven days; on the morn ng of the eighih day he was burning wilh thirst, but his money was gone. He went to the hack door.the place where he bad spein his genuea, to beg a pint on trust. Judy, the laoladay, was mopping the passage ; he stood looking at Judy with his cracked lips, parch ed taugue, and bloodshot eyes, ex pectiug her (o ask him to one drop ; but she did and he re quested her to trust him for only one pint, Withaj indignant look of scroll and contempt she relied : “Trust thee 1 Thou diriy vagabond ! Set a foot in this bouse ami / will dash this mop iu your face.' 1 The poor wretch hung down his head in shame. He was leaning against a pump. “Well, l’ump," he said: “1 have not spent a guinea with thee, Pomp; wilt thou trust me a drop?” He lifted up the ban fie, put his Durniug mouth to the spout, aud (bank his fill: this done he again suid to the pump: “Thank thee, Pump; and now hear me. Pump. I will not enter a public house again for Pthe next seven years: and Pump, I Lou art a wit ness.” The bargain was kept, and inis man afterward tiecaiue a respee table manufacturer, and often said it was a grand thing for him that Judy threatened to dash the mop in bis face, “Where have you been for the last three months ?” “I’ve been in Europe. 1 was ia Marseilles, ami„had the i nolt-ra. Nobody knows what |I suffered.” “Well, you were luck. That accounts for your looking so well. Suppose you bad remained here, and gone tbiougL all tbis Presi dential tacked as I nave bad to do. You would be in you would be in your grave now. You don t know what suffering is.” There is a blind Baptist living in Rabun county 101 years old. Ho calls bis neighbors around him nearly every Sunday and preaches a sermon. Send us $1.50 and procure your county paper lor twelve mouths